


December 9th: Mistletoe

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Advent Calendar, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Crowley Just Wants To Be Loved (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffyfest, Ineffable Advent, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mistletoe, Shopping, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, meet me under the mistletoe, they're just so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 9 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which Aziraphale drags Crowley along shopping with him and Crowley finds a distraction.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	December 9th: Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

Crowley found himself in an exceptionally, almost  _ unreasonably  _ good mood. He'd woken from a warm, wonderful sleep still wrapped in his angel's arms, and that little detail - the fact that the angel had stayed the entire night, not even miracling himself a book to read - meant more to the demon than he could possibly explain. Not that he expected Aziraphale to spend every night holding him while he slept, despite having little-to-no desire to sleep himself. But this one time, after the events of the previous evening...it left an extremely warm feeling in Crowley's chest that he wanted to hold onto forever. 

"Good morning, my love," the angel cooed when he noticed the demon's eyelids flutter open. "Did you sleep well?"

Crowley squeezed his arms tight and nuzzled his face into Aziraphale's tartan pajamas to hide the overly-exuberant grin on his face. "Mmm…"he hummed as he nosed the soft fabric over the angel's chest. "Sssso good… Dreamed 'bout you."

Aziraphale's fingers stroked pleasantly up and down Crowley's back, sometimes weaving up through his hair, sometimes scratching gently at the back of his neck. "Oh did you?" he prodded. "I should be interested to hear what it was all about."

Crowley slithered up from beneath Aziraphale's arms to bring himself nose-to-nose with his smiling angel. He hissed playfully and let his hips wiggle a little against the other's body. "It was a naughty one...want me to demonssstrate?"

Aziraphale's blue eyes crinkled in an amused chuckle. "Perhaps a raincheck?" he suggested. "I was rather hoping you'd accompany me for a bit of Christmas shopping."

Crowley frowned and his hips went still. "Shopping?" he repeated, as though he'd never heard the word before. 

"Yes, my dear." Aziraphale didn't seem to notice the hint of frustration in the demon's voice. "Window shopping, mostly. I'd like to take a look at some possibilities for gifts for our human friends, and I thought that perhaps we could get lunch while we're out."

Crowley's teeth had clenched together rather painfully. Crowley  _ hated  _ shopping. Especially shopping during Christmas. Oh, it was a great opportunity for lots of little demonic wiles and temptations, that was certain. But the crowds and the noise and the relentless Christmas music being played over and over and over in every store...if Beelzebub adopted the idea of blaring Christmas music over the loudspeakers in Hell the two would be virtually indistinguishable in Crowley's eyes. What he  _ really  _ wanted was to stay here in bed, to tear off Aziraphale's silly tartan pajamas and kiss every inch of the angel's body. 

_ But _ , he told himself,  _ I shouldn't be selfish. Well, I  _ should... _ but not with Aziraphale. Never with Aziraphale... _

"Okay, sure," he found himself saying while pushing the dread deep down inside. "Where did you want to go first?"

* * *

It was precisely as Crowley had been expecting it to be.

Crowded. Loud. He hadn't banked on the smells, to be honest. And oh Go- Sat-...FUCK. It seemed like every store was playing the same three songs on repeat with the expressed purpose of driving him out of his desperately high-strung little mind. 

But somehow the worst part was the fact that Aziraphale wasn't even _buying_ anything. He just kept wandering in and out of shops, up and down aisles, smiling that calm, pleased smile, occasionally running his fingers along what seemed, to Crowley, to be the most random of items. He'd hem and haw, and then walk away, mumbling something too soft to hear, or pausing to have a quick, soothing chat with a harried shop employee. 

No, wait. Aziraphale neglecting to purchase anything  _ wasn't  _ the worst part. 

The _worst_ part was that he was paying  _ absolutely no attention to Crowley at all _ .

The demon shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting (it didn't help) while his angel fussed over some little plush penguins in the impulse buy aisle. He gnawed at his lip while Aziraphale let a salesperson attempt (and fail) to sell him an e-reader. He anxiously braided, un-braided, and re-braided a lock of red hair while the angel fussed around a new-age shop, mumbling to himself about what kind of items Miss Anathema might find useful. 

By the time they reached the tenth over-packed department store Crowley's pockets were stretched out, his lip was red and raw, and he'd spent so much time yanking on that same lock of hair that he thought he might have dislodged a bit of flesh from his corporation's skull. But still he bit his tongue and ground his teeth, and resisted an almost overwhelming urge to whine and complain (and possibly get up to some energy-burning mischief) because he wanted...he wanted…

_ Fucking Heaven and Hell and everything in between… _ He wanted to be  _ good  _ for Aziraphale. 

He remembered the previous night, how his angel had spoken so kindly to him, said such warm, wonderful things… He wanted _more_ of that. And he wanted to  _ feel  _ like he  _ deserved _ it. 

Christ, when had he gotten so blasted sappy and sentimental? 

The demon didn't have an answer to that question (though he had a few theories), but he did know one thing: as much as he wanted to be - UGH -  _ good  _ for his angel, if he didn't focus some of Aziraphale's attention back on himself soon he thought he might go absolutely mad.

His eye wandered to a display of Christmas decorations and a slow grin slid across his face. 

Aziraphale was asking an employee what exactly made a Snuggie truly any different than a nice blanket when said employee's gaze flickered up to a place just above the angel's head and a little flush went across her cheeks. "Is there something wrong?" the angel asked, and in response the employee raised a hand to point up and cleared her throat to hide the smile that was threatening to emerge. 

"I, um...I'll just be over here," she said, gesturing toward the jewellery desk, "if you still need help after-" She trailed off and continued to gesture upward before taking off with speed and a giggle on her lips. 

Aziraphale blinked after her, thoroughly confused, and finally looked up to see a pale, slender hand, directly above his head, holding the end of a shiny satin ribbon, which was tied tight around a bundle of mistletoe. With a hint of heat coloring his face and an upward twitch of his lips, the angel turned around to face the grinning demon who had let his dark glasses fall down just enough to let a peek of amber show above the lenses. 

"It's the rules, angel," Crowley purred. "You wouldn't want to break the Christmas  _ rules _ , would you?"

Aziraphale fought a smile and crossed his arms in mock-annoyance. "For goodness sake, Crowley, we're in public, in a crowded shopping establishment," he scolded. There was no bite to the words at all.

Crowley only grinned wider and held up his other hand in a defensive posture. "Hey, I didn't make the rules, angel!" he insisted. "Take it up with- Who was it invented this one again?"

"The Greeks," Aziraphale chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "And it was long before the concept of Christmas." He extracted a hand from his crossed arms to point up at the mistletoe above his head. "It was a Saturnalian tradition...that became part of their wedding ceremonies."

The moment he was reminded of that forgotten piece of information Crowley's grin dropped and his face went hot red. A sound a bit like a cat choking on it's own tail snuck out of his throat. 

Aziraphale laughed outright, but not unkindly, and reached forward to take Crowley's free hand in both of his own. "Are you feeling a little bored, my dear?" he asked. "Is it time for us to retire to our lunch?"

Crowley chewed on his lip a little. He seemed to be holding something back, so the angel gave his hand a little squeeze. "You've been quite good for me all day, my dear," he offered. "So go ahead. Please tell me what you're thinking."

The little bit of praise made a warmth crawl all through Crowley's body. He gave a little nod and looked down at his shoes as though the request embarrassed him. "C'n we get takeaway? Go back to the bookshop?" He looked up over his glasses with hopeful eyes. 

And the demon might not realize it, but the request (and the fact that he'd willingly made it without argument) filled the angel's heart to bursting. 

"I think that sounds like a lovely idea, dearest," Aziraphale agreed with a radiant smile. 

Crowley grinned, happy as a schoolboy, and turned to lead his angel home, but to his surprise Aziraphale gave him a sharp little tug to pull him back. He looked back at the angel with confused eyes peering out over the top of his glasses. 

Aziraphale plucked the piece of mistletoe from the demon's hand and raised it back up between them with a cheeky smile. "Rules, remember?" 

And to Crowley's utter surprise and delight, his angel leaned forward on his toes and pressed their lips together right there in the middle of the store. A few bystanders grinned and whistled; a few others rolled their eyes or muttered rudely. Crowley didn't see or hear any of them because his pulse was thrumming manically in his ears. 

When Aziraphale pulled back Crowley was staring at him with wide eyes, his glasses having tipped down to the end of his nose. 

The angel held up the bundle of mistletoe and considered it carefully with an almost  _ too _ proper smile. "I think we'll take this home with us," he suggested, and promptly walked off toward the cash registers. 

And the demon, after a few heartbeat-free moments to contemplate that his goofy plan had worked far better than he could have possibly expected, ran after him like the lovesick puppy that he was. 


End file.
